


Put Your Finger On My Trigger

by greedy_dancer



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Complete, Dom/sub, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Over stimulation, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-22
Updated: 2011-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:52:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greedy_dancer/pseuds/greedy_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Spencer's tried different things; he wants to figure this out, but Brendon isn't being particularly helpful. Each time Spencer, tingling and basking in the afterglow, has tried asking Brendon what he wanted, all Brendon does is give him a look of combined arousal and frustration, and a variation of, "Whatever you want, Spencer."</i></p><p><i>Unfortunately, that never actually works. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is fiction, no harm intended.
> 
> Title from The Beatles' _Happiness Is A Warm Gun_. Many thanks to Starwatcher307 for the beta. Thank you to Crazybutsound for the hand-holding and Castalie and Moimoietmoi for the cheerleading!

The problem is, the sex is really awkward.

  
Spencer doesn't notice at first, because he's caught up in the novelty and awesomeness of the situation. He's having sex! Regularly! With Brendon! \o/

  
And, in the beginning, nothing is really wrong. They rub off frantically against each other in one of their bunks, Spencer on top of Brendon, his hand on Brendon's mouth because Brendon apparently can't keep quiet and then, when they've both come in their pants, Brendon laughs a little and it's the best thing that's ever happened to Spencer.

  
But after a while Spencer gets over the \o/ impulse, and the urge to just get off as quickly as he can in case something interrupts them. He and Brendon both relax into their relationship, and the others get a clue and start giving them space, and somehow they happen to be designated roommates most hotel nights. That's when Spencer starts noticing the pattern.

  
The sex always starts good. Brendon is responsive, making as much noise and reacting as enthusiastically as before. But then, gradually, he becomes quiet and still. Sometimes he seems frustrated and sighs softly, which is always followed by a quick, guilty glance at Spencer.

  
But the main problem is that Spencer can't seem to get Brendon off. Brendon always comes; Spencer isn't such a selfish prick that he wouldn't have noticed _that_. But Brendon doesn't get there until he... well... takes matters into his own hand.

  
Spencer can be blowing him, or jerking him off, and Brendon will be moving with him and making the tiny, excited noises that drive Spencer crazy, and he's certain that _this_ time it's going to happen.

  
But after a while, when Spencer has to take a break to stretch his wrist or relax his jaw, Brendon stills and mumbles, "Wait, Spence, just... let me..." He nudges Spencer out of the way and strokes himself quickly for a minute until he comes, biting his lip and scrunching his eyes, while Spencer mouths his neck or awkwardly pats his hip.

  
Spencer is beginning to feel incredibly guilty, and also kind of embarrassed. Basically, Brendon can do no wrong when they're together; Spencer has a great time no matter what Brendon does. But, apparently, Spencer is the kind of guy who can't get his eighteen-year-old boyfriend off. Which is weird, right? Spencer had always thought the problem with guys and sex was firing too soon, not being unable to fire.

  
Spencer's tried different things; he wants to figure this out, but Brendon isn't being particularly helpful. Each time Spencer, tingling and basking in the afterglow, has tried asking Brendon what he wanted, all Brendon does is give him a look of combined arousal and frustration, and a variation of, "Whatever you want, Spencer."

  
Unfortunately, that never actually works.

  
Worst of all, Spencer hasn’t gotten to hear Brendon’s post-orgasm laugh since those first exciting quickies in their bunks. Now, Brendon just rolls over with his back to Spencer's front, not even touching.

  
Spencer spends a moment watching Brendon's form under the sheet and trying to think of something to say to fix this. But when Brendon turns around and gives him a quick peck goodnight, Spencer simply sighs and closes his eyes.

  
He lies there, trying very hard not to list all the reasons Brendon wouldn't be able get off with him.

  
He simply can't understand what's wrong. He's done okay at sex with girls - well, one girl, but she had no complaints. So when he'd thought he might like to try sex with guys, too, he'd been confident that two guys together would be much less complicated. The way things are going, though, he's pretty sure it's something he's doing wrong. He tries not to consider the idea that Brendon might just not be that into him.

  
Still, each time Spencer wakes up, Brendon is pressed tightly against him, their legs tangled together, or his head on Spencer's shoulder. Spencer chooses to take that as a good sign.

  
***

  
To be honest, if it were anyone else, Spencer would probably cut his losses and bail. Not everyone is compatible; he knows that, even if he's not very experienced.

  
But everything else with Brendon is really awesome. He's easy-going, he doesn't cling, he doesn't want to talk about his feelings. Anything that Spencer likes doing is okay with Brendon; he doesn't sigh when Spencer wants to play video games instead of going out on a proper date. Brendon already knows his family and his friends, and obviously he understands about the band.

  
And Brendon is also really, really hot. He's got this mouth, and this _voice_ , not to mention basically everything else about him that keeps Spencer in a state of constant low-grade arousal. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem if their awesome make-out sessions didn't then turn into awkward, embarrassing, faily sex. Fuck.

  
Spencer can't put his finger on what he's missing. They're young guys, they like each other, and they're away from their parents; what more could be needed? And he knows Brendon likes sex as much as he does; he's heard those unmistakable sounds in the bunks.

  
He's tried dealing with it as an adult. He's read the books and seen the websites; he knows a fulfilling sexual relationship is built on trust and communication between partners. But whenever he tries asking Brendon if there's something wrong, Brendon always says no, or kisses him and says, "It's fine."

  
Once, after a particularly frustrating attempt, Brendon had said, "Sorry, Spence," with his eyes closed and an unhappy twist to his mouth. Spencer's chest had tightened with confused misery. He was the one failing at sex; he probably should have been the one to apologize.

  
***

  
Then the day comes when Spencer reaches his limit.

  
When Brendon asks Spencer to fuck him, Spencer is hesitant. "I don't know, Bren." He thinks it might not be such a great idea, considering they can't even manage the basics. "What if I hurt you?"

  
"You won't; Spencer, you'd never hurt me." Brendon sounds cautious, and yet hopeful. "Please?"

  
How could Spencer resist those eyes? Besides, he's just like any other guy; there's mostly only one thing on his mind. Maybe it's a little selfish, or maybe he actually believes this time it will be better, that this is what Brendon has needed all along.

  
Spencer digs in his bag for lube and condoms. He gets them both ready, Brendon on his knees and elbows, moaning steadily, and he pushes in slowly and it feels so unbelievably good.

  
"I'm not hurting you, right?" Spencer asks anxiously. Brendon shakes his head.

  
He certainly seems to be enjoying it. Regardless, Spencer tries to go slow; he tries to be careful and gentle, and not come too soon. But he's _inside Brendon_ for the first time, and then Brendon makes this breathless, exciting whimper while his upper body drops lower, with his arms extending above his head like he's reaching for a headboard, for something to hold on to. That does something to the angle inside and Spencer just loses it, his orgasm undeniable despite his best efforts to hold on.

  
After Spencer regains his breath, he whispers an apology into Brendon's nape, pulls out and deals with the condom. He returns to lie next to Brendon, whose knees seem to have given out. He's sprawled face down on the mattress, hands clenched into fists next to the pillows, chest heaving.

  
Spencer just takes in the sight for a moment, his own chest swelling with ridiculous affection and desire, although he’s just come. He reaches a hand underneath Brendon, nuzzling his ear gently.

  
Brendon lets out a moan, muffled by the pillow, but he doesn't move or turn around. Spencer waits for a few moments, nuzzling Brendon's ear and finally asks directly, "Come on, tell me what you want, Brendon; what do you need me to do?" He hopes he manages to keep his voice firm, because no one should sound whiny so soon after coming, but he's not sure how well he succeeds.

  
His offer doesn't have the expected result, though. It only seems to shut Brendon down. He sighs, rolls away and mumbles, "Um, it's okay, I already..."

  
But it's not okay, Spencer knows it isn't. Brendon's back is hunched and he doesn't look at Spencer as he puts on his sweatpants, grabs his underwear and rushes out of the room. Spencer can't for the life of him figure out what he did wrong. He sits on the bed and tries not to stare at the sheet - where the wet spot should be.

  
That's when he decides he needs help.

  
***

  
Spencer weighs his options, but there aren't many. The internet is unhelpful, and he doesn't think this particular problem is covered by his parents' assurance that they'll, "Be there for anything, seriously, Spencer."

  
The natural answer would, of course, be Ryan. Ryan's always been his best friend, and he knows these things - at least in theory. Panic may be playing songs about Ryan's sex life every night, and the girls in the audience might lap it up, but Spencer was _there_ ; he knows what actually happened, and Ryan definitely didn't start out with the hottest touch and the better fuck.

  
But not only is Ryan Spencer's best friend, now he's also Brendon's friend, and one of their co-workers. (Spencer still gets a little thrill whenever he remembers that they're actually professionals, with an honest-to-God contract.) So Spencer doesn't want to make it awkward for Ryan, knowing sex stuff about Brendon... and he's pretty sure Brendon wouldn't want Ryan to know, either.

  
On the other hand, it's not like there's anyone else he can ask. Brent is off doing God knows what with his brother who's visiting - again - and the other bands give them enough shit without Spencer providing them with any additional material.

  
Maybe that tech guy who's working for TAI... he seems like maybe he wouldn't laugh in Spencer's face and then tell the rest of the tour. But Spencer would rather not take the risk. Besides, he thinks Jon has a girlfriend, so probably he wouldn't even be able to help with that particular problem.

  
As for Zach, just... no.

  
So really, cliché as it sounds, Ryan is his only hope.

  
In retrospect, Spencer thinks that should have been enough of a warning.

  
Naturally, the day Spencer manages to talk to Ryan is also the day Brendon can't find anyone to drive him to Starbucks and decides to bring a few cans of Red Bull to the dressing room instead. Which is how he ends up interrupting Spencer's talk with Ryan. And because the universe really hates Spencer, Ryan is in the middle of a sentence about Spencer and Brendon's sex life.

  
More specifically - Spencer remembers exactly because, as soon as he catches the door opening from the corner of his eye, it seems like time stretches, and the situation is like the slow-motion car accidents they show you in school - what Ryan is saying is, "So you mean sex with Brendon is _bad_?"

  
Spencer can only stare; he's frozen, unable to say anything that might prevent the fallout. Brendon's mouth is moving, as if he's speaking but someone turned off the sound, and his face falls into misery. Then he turns his back to Spencer and flees the room. Spencer thinks it's becoming a recurring theme in their relationship. He also thinks he might be seeing a lot more of Brendon's back in the future, unless he can find a way to fix this.

  
"Oops?" Ryan has the decency to sound sheepish. Spencer rubs his face. "Well, look on the bright side," Ryan continues. "Now you two will have to talk."

  
***

  
For a few days, Brendon gives Spencer the cold shoulder. It's not like he can avoid Spencer completely - when they're not on stage or giving interviews they're stuck on the same bus - but Brendon finds ways of never being alone with him and just placates him with excessive politeness. But, finally, Spencer manages to corner Brendon behind a gas station where the busses are making a pit stop, to explain and apologize.

  
It doesn't go well; Brendon won't even let him get a word in edgewise. "Look, I know the sex is bad, and I'm _sorry_ ," he says. His voice starts with a waver, but then firms up, although his eyes don't meet Spencer's. "I understand if you want to break it off, but..." He takes a deep breath and finishes in a rush, "The least you could do is come to me first. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't go around telling the band, okay, thank you."

  
That 'thank you' makes Spencer so frustrated that he wants to grab Brendon and shake him. It's a good thing that Brendon is staring at the ground, and can't see the way Spencer is glaring at him.

  
Also, what the hell? When did Spencer ever say he wanted to break up?

  
Spencer studies Brendon, who somehow manages to look both pissed off and completely miserable. So, rather than shaking him, Spencer pulls Brendon into a hug. Brendon holds himself stiff, every muscle tense and ready for flight but, once Spencer starts rubbing his back, he relaxes slightly into the embrace.

  
"I don't want to break up, you idiot," Spencer whispers fiercely into his ear. "I just... I went to Ryan for advice, because I know this..." Brendon can't see the inclusive gesture behind his own back, but Spencer's pretty sure, from the way Brendon's arms are tightening around his waist, that Brendon understands exactly what he means. "...This isn't really doing it for you, and I don't know what to do, and it was stupid, but I thought maybe Ryan could help."

  
He feels Brendon start to pull back, and sees him open his mouth to answer, but Spencer doesn't let him speak; he's heard it too many times before.

  
"Don't tell me it's 'fine', Brendon; I'm not stupid. But we can figure it out. I just..." Spencer sighs and strokes Brendon's neck, ruffling the ends of his hair. "It just feels so good, for me, when we're..." Spencer trails off and clears his throat, but his voice remains soft and husky. "I _want_ to get you off, okay? I want you to feel as good as I do. And I guess I don't understand why you won't tell me how to help."

  
Brendon lets out a huge breath and takes a step back. His face is red, but at least he's looking Spencer in the eye. He grabs Spencer by the cuff of his shirt and guides them back to their bus.

  
"Sorry guys, would you mind?" Brendon says firmly to Ryan and Brent. They're watching something in the back lounge, but they must realize something is going on, because Brent gets up - albeit with a put-upon sigh - and Ryan gives Spencer the least discreet thumbs up ever as he passes them on his way out.

  
Spencer stands awkwardly in the small space and watches as Brendon slides the door shut and comes to sit cross-legged on the couch. Spencer sits facing Brendon, mimicking his position, and waits for Brendon to talk.

  
There are several false starts; Brendon opens and closes his mouth a few times without uttering a word. Spencer is doing his best to keep his face neutral, but he feels a freak-out waiting in the wings.

  
What the hell could be so hard to say? He starts praying that Brendon doesn't have some sort of serious trauma in his past that put him off sex forever. Fuck, Spencer is the worst boyfriend ever; how could he not know something like that?

  
Or maybe Brendon is just into something seriously hardcore, like those furry people Pete told them about. Or the people who wear inflatable latex suits. Or giant baby clothes. Oh God, he hopes Brendon doesn't want to dress him up as a giant baby.

  
After what feels like an eternity, but is probably little more than a minute, Spencer is shaken from his silent freak-out by yet another of Brendon's sighs. "This is stupid, I don't know... I can't..." He shrugs, with a defeated expression.

  
Spencer grabs his hand before Brendon can start to leave. "Come with me," he says, drawing Brendon to his feet. He guides them both to his bunk, ignoring Brendon's panicky look and encourages him up. "Come on Brendon, trust me." He climbs into the bunk after Brendon and draws the curtain closed. Brendon is lying on his side, watching Spencer with apprehension in his eyes.

  
"We're not going to have sex, relax." Spencer mentally adds the sentence to the list of 'things I hope I never, ever again have to say'. "Turn around, put your back to me."

  
Brendon sends Spencer another weary look, but complies. Once Brendon's back is flush against Spencer's front, Spencer carefully puts his hand on Brendon's ribcage, over his t-shirt; he doesn't want to spook Brendon. "Now close your eyes." He doesn't know if Brendon does, but he figures it's dark enough in the bunk to do the trick, anyway.

  
"My mom always used to make me do that when there was something I wanted to confess but couldn't," he says, using what he hopes is a soothing voice. "She said sometimes the truth was afraid of the light." Spencer rolls his eyes at the memory and feels Brendon's snort more than he hears it. He pushes on. "So... if you wanted to tell me, now, that would be cool. But you don't have to. We can also just take a nap."

  
Spencer can feel Brendon breathing, his ribs rising and falling beneath the flimsy fabric of his shirt. He tries to time his breathing to Brendon's, but it's too rapid. He hears Brendon swallow, once, twice, but Brendon still isn't saying anything.

  
Spencer's almost given up. His eyes are sliding shut and he's starting to drift off into sleep, lulled by Brendon's steady breathing, when Brendon starts whispering.

  
"So... When I was at home and I would, you know... touch myself. Um. I just... sometimes I would pretend like it was someone else doing it." Brendon's words are coming quite fast now, like he wants to get it all out at once. "I would imagine it was someone doing it to me, and I wouldn't be allowed to make noise or move or they'd stop. Or sometimes I'd think about them not stopping even if it was too fast or too much. And, um, that's always... that's when it would be... Good. Best." He draws a deep breath. "Um. Yeah."

  
Brendon falls silent again, still lying immobile in Spencer's arms, rigid as a rock. Spencer feels a little sweat dampening the shirt under his hand, and Brendon is still breathing too quickly.

  
Spencer takes a moment to consider what he's just heard. Listening to Brendon, and being so close to him, has made him half-hard, but he won't do anything about it, not now.

  
"Do you still..." he starts, but his voice feels scratchy. He tries again, louder. "Do you still think about, about that? Do you, like... do you want me to... is that what you need me to do?"

  
Brendon nods, the barest movement. "I think... maybe?" he says. "But not, like... not if you think it's weird. Do you think it's weird? I know it’s -"

  
Spencer cuts him off. "No, Brendon, I don't, I promise. I don't think it's weird. And it doesn't make _you_ weird. Mostly it's -" Spencer licks his lips. He wishes he could reach down and adjust himself. "I think it's really hot, Bren."

  
"Yeah?" Brendon's voice is still tentative, but Spencer feels him squirming closer. Brendon's ass is getting dangerously close to his crotch.

  
"Yeah, totally, dude." Spencer lets the hand on Brendon's chest drift lower, towards the edge of Brendon's shirt, and then underneath. Brendon's skin feels hot, clammy. "We could totally do that. If you wanted."

  
Brendon arches his back, bringing his ass firmly in contact with Spencer's now fully-hard cock. Spencer hisses and starts pushing back in tiny movements. He slides the hand on Brendon's stomach lower, circling his belly button and stroking the fine hairs leading downward. He feels Brendon's stomach tense in anticipation.

  
"Don't move, okay?" Spencer hears Brendon take in a sharp breath, and the rubbing stops. "You can make noise, but if you move, I'll... I'll stop."

  
Brendon makes a small whimper, which Spencer interprets as agreement. He takes his hand out of Brendon's shirt and starts rubbing his crotch instead, feeling Brendon already hard and straining at his fly. He rubs a little more, tracing the outline of Brendon's cock, palming his balls, scratching at the head through the denim.

  
Brendon is making more noise now, but he's keeping still - so still - except for his chest that seems to rise and fall more rapidly with each pass of Spencer's hand.

  
Spencer wishes he could see Brendon's face. He says, "Next time I want to see you. I want to look at you, being still, knowing that I'll stop if you're not."

  
Brendon groans. Spencer can feel him twitching, can feel how tense Brendon is, how hard he's fighting the urge to thrust into Spencer's hand. He's pretty worked up himself, but he wants to focus on Brendon. Brendon is giving him this, trusting him with this, letting him do this. Spencer can wait.

  
He hears Brendon's desperate whimper as he starts unbuttoning Brendon's fly and slips his hand under his boxers, palming his cock and rubbing his thumb over the shaft.

  
Spencer props himself on his elbow and watches Brendon's face in the dimness of the bunk. His eyes are shut tight, his forehead creased and his mouth open wide as he sucks in deep breaths.

  
Spencer wishes he could kiss him. Instead, he licks Brendon's ear with tiny dabs of his tongue, and tightens his fist around Brendon's cock, stroking faster. Brendon remains motionless, even though - from the way his hand clenches and unclenches on the pillow - it's obvious it's getting harder to keep his body still.

  
Spencer doesn't want to drag it out too long; he doesn't know how much of this Brendon can bear, and he's feeling a certain desperation himself, so he starts swiping his thumb across the head on each upstroke. Brendon makes a throaty, panicky sound. "Spencer, Spencer, I can't, I need -"

  
"Shh, Brendon, you're doing good, okay? Just a little more; don't move, you don't want me to stop do you?"

  
Spencer hopes Brendon doesn't tell him yes, and he desperately hopes Brendon doesn't move; he wants this more than anything. He wants to make Brendon come, he wants to feel it and to see it. He's never had Brendon so worked up, he's never heard these noises Brendon's making, and it makes him feel exhilarated and powerful and a little bit awed.

  
He's sure it would be physically painful to stop if Brendon disobeyed now. But, oh God, he won't have to; Brendon is _obeying_ him.

  
Spencer's started rubbing himself against Brendon's ass again, just trying to ease the pressure, but all it does is ratchet the tension higher. He's pretty sure that, whenever Brendon comes, he'll come too.

  
He speeds up his hand stroking Brendon's cock, although his wrist starts to protest the angle and he knows he’ll pay for it when they play tomorrow. He goes back to nuzzling and whispering into Brendon's ear. "That's great, Bren." His voice is hoarse with urgency. "You feel so good, so hot... want you to come for me; come in my hand."

  
Brendon does.

  
He cries out and starts pulsing into Spencer's hand, and Spencer is beside himself with the need to take care of him, to reassure him. "It's okay, you can move now." Brendon gasps, gives a couple of frantic thrusts, and moans into the pillow, all his muscles tight.

  
Spencer can't even think, he's so turned on.

  
He shoves his hand inside his pants, still wet with Brendon's release, grabs himself through his underwear and starts coming immediately. His eyes roll back and his eyelids flutter closed at the feel of Brendon's hand pressing over his.

  
It takes Spencer a long time to open his eyes but, when he does, Brendon is watching him.

  
"Was that... was that okay?"

  
Spencer can't believe Brendon needs to ask, but he sees the way Brendon is chewing his lip with worry.

  
"Come here," he says, pulling Brendon closer, and kissing him. "That was amazing," he whispers against Brendon's mouth. He's not sure how well it comes across.

  
Brendon licks at his lips before drawing back. "I drooled all over your pillow," he says, eyes crinkling with laughter, before settling back against Spencer with a sigh. This time, Spencer can hear the contentment.

  
"Can we still take that nap?" Brendon is already yawning. Spencer figures they can talk when they wake up. Also, they'll need to clean up, because wow, that made a mess.

  
***

  
Of course, it's not smooth sailing from the get-go. They need to figure out this... thing they do now. Brendon's not actually sure exactly what he needs, because he's never tried it with anyone before.

  
Brendon tells Spencer he's his first actual lover, which makes Spencer choke on his mouthful of Coke and almost miss his Star Power. "Lover, you dork, who says that?" Brendon glares at him, an impressive feat considering he doesn't seem to ever take his eyes off their game.

  
"Does this mean you've never actually, um, had good sex before?" Spencer asks, once they're well into the next song.

  
Brendon's earnest tone is contradicted by his quirked eyebrows. "Yes, Spencer, that's exactly what it means. You're the first to actually get my rocks off. You're a stud. You're the man!"

  
Spencer is too busy trying to keep up with Brendon's score to think of an appropriately sarcastic response.

  
***

  
So they try working out the boundaries by trial and error. That produces plenty of awesome sex, but also enough moments of tension that Spencer is still on edge a lot of the time.

  
What Brendon wants seems pretty simple; he wants Spencer to take control for a little while. He wants someone who's confident and makes decisions and doesn't expect him to be Brendon Urie of Panic! At the Disco, showman extraordinaire and teenage heartthrob. He doesn't want to be humiliated or hurt. He just wants someone to be in charge of making him feel good, even if he sometimes resists it a little.

  
Sometimes Spencer thinks it doesn't actually matter what he makes Brendon do; it's the _making_ that counts, not the _doing_. That thought is a little scary.

  
Spencer wants to ask Brendon if they need a safeword, but that feels dangerous, like he'd be taking them into a universe that's unknown and risky. He's looked up a few things on the web, and the sites he found had made him pretty uncomfortable. He hopes Brendon doesn't want all - or even most - of the things he'd found on there. Spencer's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to go through with some of that stuff.

  
He doesn't think Brendon wants to take it that far, at least judging from the way Brendon had blanched after catching a look at Spencer's computer screen, when Spencer had been making himself read through one of the most hardcore sites.

  
Yet, Spencer is sometimes uncertain about how far to push, and Brendon still gets defensive about what turns him on. Once, Brendon snaps at Spencer right in the middle of sex. "Stop asking if it's okay! God, you're missing the whole point!"

  
Spencer has no answer, but he's getting angry. How is he supposed to know what's okay if Brendon doesn't tell him? What if he gets carried away and hurts Brendon accidentally? He has no experience with this - neither of them has - and Spencer's the one who's supposed to be in control, to be responsible for Brendon, but how can he do that when _he doesn't know what the hell he's doing_?

  
Brendon apparently notices how freaked out Spencer is; his face softens immediately and he draws Spencer closer, until Spencer's head is on his shoulder. Brendon scratches Spencer's scalp the way it always soothes him, and lets him cling for a while.

  
"Spencer, you dork," Brendon says with a smile, nuzzling Spencer's ear, "it'll be _okay_! You're so vanilla, anything you can think of will be _fine_. And hurt me? You wish."

  
Spencer flicks at Brendon's nipple in revenge.

  
"Mostly, it's just that I trust you," Brendon continues, voice serious again. "And I want you to trust me that if you do something I actually don't want, or if you hurt me, I'll tell you. You know I'm not into pain."

  
Spencer huffs softly at that. They'd tried spanking, once, but Brendon had put a stop to it immediately, which Spencer had thought was kind of a shame. That ass...

  
All the worries dissipate - for now, anyway - when Brendon pulls Spencer more firmly on top of him, and starts rubbing invitingly against him. "Let's just do this for now, okay?" Spencer nods and dips his head to meet Brendon halfway for a kiss. He's not completely hard again, but with the way their cocks keep bumping between their stomachs, sliding against each other, he's not worried.

  
Spencer's last doubts disappear when he tightens his hands over Brendon's wrists, and Brendon responds with a broad smile. "See? You're a natural," Brendon whispers. Those are the last words they utter for a while.

  
***

  
Brendon and Spencer are making the most out of the hotel room by showering together, taking their time, touching each other under the hot water long after they've finished cleaning up. Spencer is leisurely stroking Brendon's skin, licking across his collarbones, nipping at his Adam's apple, and has just completed the journey towards Brendon's hard cock when he hears the muted pounding on the door that announces imminent departure from the hotel.

  
Spencer starts to turn off the water to get dressed, but he can't bear the noise Brendon makes at the prospect of being left unattended to. Maybe it's the right time to try something new. He grasps Brendon firmly in his hand and starts stroking him, nice and steady and just this side of too slow.

  
"You want to come?" he asks, just for the pleasure of seeing Brendon's face as he struggles to get the words out. Spencer has discovered that he loves talking during sex. All the directing and praising and encouraging he's doing with Brendon have revealed a healthy kink for talking dirty. But Brendon still has trouble using words to express what he wants, at least while they're having sex.

  
Spencer watches as Brendon's face pinks, and feels the exhaled "yeah," more than he hears it.

  
"We don't have a lot of time," Spencer replies, slowing his strokes until he's barely moving at all. "I don't want to be late. So what I'm going to do is count to thirty. If you want to come at all today, you're going to have to do it here, just like that. If you haven't come by thirty, then you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

  
Spencer watches Brendon's face carefully for any sign that he wasn't okay with this, but the way Brendon is licking his lips and exposing his throat is all the reassurance he needs.

  
Spencer picks up his stroking, moving his hand again at an unhurried pace, and starts counting slowly. He isn't sure what he wants to happen. The idea of Brendon losing control that quick, just because Spencer wants him to, is really hot. But on the other hand, the idea of teasing Brendon and then leaving him all worked up for the entire day...

  
Spencer loses himself watching Brendon - his furrowed brow, his flaring nostrils, his lower lip turning white with the pressure of this teeth - all the while keeping a steady rhythm he knows wouldn't usually be enough for Brendon to get off. And in the end, despite Spencer's unconscious slowing as he counts the final numbers, and Brendon's straining and frantic thrusting, it isn't enough.

  
It's harder than Spencer thought it would be, stopping and leaving Brendon flushed and panting.

  
Brendon doesn't even seem to notice at first. Spencer watches as his eyes open slowly and realization sinks in, sees how Brendon struggles to regain control of himself, takes a few deep breaths and turns to stop the flow of water. "Come on, we're going to be late,” Brendon says matter-of-factly, as he grabs his toothbrush.

  
This is what always surprises Spencer: the way Brendon seems to be able to go from a state of complete surrender to being his normal self again. Spencer still has trouble reconciling the two sides of Brendon - and, for that matter, the two sides of himself.

  
He's still deep in thought when Brendon comes over for a last kiss before they step outside of the hotel room.

  
"You're going to be alright like this all day?" Spencer wonders if he should have waited until a day off to do this. Today there are interviews scheduled, and then a show, and he isn't even sure how he'll get through them; he can't imagine how much harder it will be for Brendon.

  
Brendon smirks and squeezes Spencer's crotch quickly. "Looks like I'm not the only one!" He licks Spencer's lips and goes to grab his bag. "Let's get this show on the road!" He steps out of the room, shaking his ass at Spencer.

  
Spencer rolls his eyes. It's going to be a long day.

  
***

  
By the time they're back on the bus, Brendon looks wrecked, and Spencer doesn't feel much better. Brendon has spent the whole day teasing Spencer, trying to sneak kisses and touches. Spencer has resisted as best he could, but his resolve crumbles a little more each time Brendon looks at him across the room.

  
However, there is no way they'll be able to get enough time alone on the bus tonight. William Beckett and his band of merry drunkards have invaded and taken over their lounge, and Brent is in the back, talking to his girlfriend on the phone.

  
Time has never seemed to pass more slowly than in those few hours until everyone becomes too drunk even to keep drinking, and they start passing out in random piles all over the bus. Brendon manages to corner Spencer at one point, but Spencer doesn't let him do more than steal a kiss and press a thigh between Spencer's for a brief moment. Spencer whispers, "Nuh huh, not today," into Brendon's ear and goes back to Butcher, who's been detailing his theory about the similarities between art, sex and drumming - which doesn't really help with Spencer's predicament.

  
At some point, even Butcher stops talking and starts nodding off, and Spencer realizes he's lost sight of Brendon. He gets up awkwardly and stumbles towards the bunks, where he finds Brendon sprawled on his stomach, one hand beneath his body, snoring slightly.

  
Spencer strokes Brendon's hair out of his face and closes his curtain before climbing into his own bunk, managing to set his alarm before he passes out.

  
He wakes with a start. A quick check of his phone tells him it's 3:58 AM, two minutes before the alarm would start beeping. Spencer deactivates it, opens his curtain and listens for any noise. Everything is still. Only a concert of rhythmic snoring can be heard over the steady drone of the bus.

  
He climbs out of his bunk carefully, waiting a few seconds in the aisle for his eyes to adapt to the darkness, and starts to clamber into Brendon's bunk. It's still too dark to see properly and the air feels close, smelling faintly of alcohol, cigarettes and sweat. Somehow, Spencer manages to get into the bunk without waking Brendon or stepping on any bodyparts.

  
Brendon has rolled over in his sleep, now resting on his back with his arms flung over his head. Spencer situates himself on his knees between Brendon's spread legs and awkwardly leans over him, resting his weight on one elbow and reaching between Brendon's legs with his other hand.

  
He feels for Brendon's dick, lying nestled between his thighs, and starts stroking lightly. Brendon snuffles in his sleep and smacks his lips a little. Spencer keeps his eyes on Brendon's face, waiting for the moment Brendon will start waking, ready to place his free hand over Brendon's mouth to keep him quiet.

  
It doesn't take long. Spencer can feel Brendon gradually coming awake in the way his body starts moving with Spencer's hand and, a handful of strokes later, Brendon's eyes are fluttering open. His arms move, but Spencer leans into Brendon and whispers, "No, leave them there."

  
"Wha-" Spencer muffles Brendon's question with his hand. He feels Brendon's tongue wetting his palm and ups the speed of his other hand, enjoying the warmth of Brendon's breath on his skin, the way he's moved his legs to get leverage and thrust into Spencer's hand. Spencer stills his hand, letting Brendon rub against it in little circles and jerks. Brendon is licking his hand steadily now, and making enough noise Spencer thinks the others would definitely wake if Brendon wasn't gagged.

  
A few thrusts more, a couple of harsh breaths, and Brendon is coming, warm wetness soaking the material under Spencer's hand. Spencer straddles one of Brendon's legs and gives a couple of weak thrusts before he's coming too, groaning his pleasure into Brendon's sweaty neck.

  
"Don’t get me wrong, I'm not complaining, Spencer, but what was that?" Brendon is still a little breathless. Spencer rolls off him, wedging himself between Brendon and the wall, struggling to get his feet underneath the sheet.

  
"It's not today anymore."

  
***

  
Finally being off tour is strange after so many weeks spent on the road, never staying in one place for more than a couple of days. Spencer stays with his parents and sleeps in his old bedroom, but he wakes up disoriented every morning, hard and reaching for Brendon.

  
He's grateful for the time to rest, especially considering they're still coming down (or - 'bouncing back') from the stress of the Brent situation, but it also means he hasn't been able to get any time alone with Brendon in a while.

  
They see each other regularly; Jon is staying in Vegas so they can work at integrating him into the show, which means practice is scheduled every day, but he and Brendon never manage to do more than make out and grope each other a little. Jon is doing great, but the songs are tricky rhythmically; Spencer ends up staying behind a lot, going over the parts Jon is having trouble with. Spencer sees Brendon's resigned, regretful glances as he leaves to go back to his own family. They both know the music is the most important thing right now.

  
Still, Spencer's starting to go a little crazy with need. He hasn't jerked off this much since the beginning of high school.

  
He spends some of his downtime hanging out with his family, some catching up with old friends, and most of it thinking about Brendon. He thinks about what Brendon might be doing, about how to get both of them in the same room, alone. At this point, a bed would be optional; Spencer would settle for any room with a lock, or possibly a chair that could be jammed under the doorknob.

  
Spencer thinks about Brendon at the most inappropriate time, like when he's watching a Disney movie with his sisters.

  
He shuts off the sound of some princess singing and remembers the first time he and Brendon had sex. Then his mind brings back images of the last time, when he pushed Brendon against the door of the airport toilet cubicle and made him be quiet while he jerked them both off with one hand, the other holding Brendon's wrists over his head. He hopes his sisters are still innocent enough that they don't realize what's happening inside his pants.

  
He wonders if thinking about sex so much makes him a freak, or if other people also do that. He's standing in line to pay for the milk his mom asked him to get when he gets the most vivid flash of the time he fucked Brendon's mouth after a show. He wonders what the woman in front of him is thinking about... if she's thinking about what to have for lunch or about the last time her lover tied her up.

  
When he's lying in bed at night, he wonders what Brendon needs, what Brendon wants, and what Brendon might want that maybe even Brendon doesn't know about.

  
Spencer has been so absorbed in creating scenarios of what might work for Brendon that, the day Spencer invites Brendon over while his family is out and they start undressing while running up the stairs to his bedroom, it takes Spencer a couple of seconds to register what Brendon means when he stops kissing Spencer and asks, "What do you want?"

  
Brendon might have relaxed a little since their awkward beginnings, but he still doesn't usually talk much during much sex, unless he's so strung out that he doesn't realize he's speaking out loud. Spencer knows the pink on Brendon's nose and cheeks isn't just arousal; it's also a sign of how much just this simple question is costing Brendon.

  
But Brendon continues, still looking at Spencer, reaching a hand to touch his lips. "Spence, come on, I want to... I want to do something for you, okay? Just for you, so come on, tell me what you want."

  
Spencer almost says that everything Brendon does _is_ for Spencer, since Spencer is always asking him to do stuff. What they do is pretty much the opposite of Spencer being selfless.

  
But Spencer’s thought about this enough to realize that, as much as he loves sex with Brendon, he probably wouldn't do all these things with someone else; he wouldn't do them if Brendon didn't need them. He understands this is Brendon trying to give back, wanting to do something for Spencer in a different way than he usually does.

  
Spencer figures he owes it to Brendon to be honest, so he takes a breath and let his mind pull up his number-one fantasy. "I want to... I'd like to watch you," he says, feeling his face heat up. It should be hilarious, two guys who've been having relatively kinky sex for months blushing over something like this. But it's really, really not.

  
Brendon flushes even darker when he realizes what Spencer means, which confirms what Spencer suspected: this is going to be difficult for Brendon - perhaps even more than that first time, when he talked about what he wanted. But Brendon has asked, and he's been so open with Spencer that it's only fair Spencer return the favor.

  
"You don't have to; I mean, obviously, there's a lot of other stuff we could do that I want... but I'd really like it if you wanted to try this."

  
When Brendon takes a step back, Spencer thinks for a second that he's going to say no, but then Brendon turns around and walks towards Spencer's twin bed.

  
Spencer runs a hand through his hair and follows. Brendon is getting rid of his underwear and Spencer settles on the bed, scooting back to sit against the headboard.

  
"Come here," he whispers. He watches as Brendon gets on the bed and crawls on all fours to kiss Spencer. They kiss for a while, all tongue and saliva, exchanging licks and bites, until Brendon sits back on his knees. "So, um... How do you want this?"

  
Spencer pushes at Brendon's shoulder until he starts falling backwards on the bed. "Like this. Just like this, Brendon." Spencer feels breathless already.

  
Brendon's eyes are dark, and he keeps them on Spencer as he licks his lips. It's a nervous tick, not intended to arouse Spencer, and yet... Brendon's reclining on one elbow and his other hand comes up jerkily, starting to trace his collarbones, stroking his chest slowly, hesitantly. His legs are spread in front of him, knees slightly bent. Spencer does his best not to stare at Brendon's cock and the way it's rising slowly.

  
Brendon's hand has reached his stomach and he's drawing circles around his navel, nearly brushing his cock on each pass. Spencer's dick is straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs, the head just poking out of the fly. He doesn't touch himself. He's not sure if he'll ever get to see Brendon like this again; he wants to appreciate it.

  
Spencer knows Brendon must be eager for contact by now; he certainly is. But Brendon doesn't reach to take himself in hand. He's watching Spencer, like he's waiting for - oh.

  
"Just, like, pretend I'm not here. I want to watch you get off, like you do... like you would if you were alone."

  
Brendon snorts something that sounds remarkably like, "Heisenberg's principle." Still, he closes his eyes and lies flat on his back, bending his knees a little more to get better purchase on the covers.

  
The sight Spencer is being provided with is positively obscene, an uninterrupted view of Brendon's whole body - his cock, his balls, his hole - all on display. Spencer tries to control himself, he really does, but he has to rub his dick a little.

  
When Brendon finally takes himself in hand he starts stoking tightly, no teasing at all, just a nice rhythm that has Spencer's erection twitching in sympathy. Brendon's hips start moving in little circles, making the bed dip slightly when Brendon presses his feet down for leverage. The only sounds in the room are the hum of the A/C and Brendon's heavy breathing. He starts thrusting into his fist and grunting a little.

  
"Yeah,” Spencer breathes before he can stop himself, and Brendon falters, cranes his neck, opens his eyes. Spencer grabs one of Brendon's ankles and pets it, reassuring. "No, no, sorry, keep going, just... keep going, Brendon, don't mind me, okay, please."

  
Brendon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again, taking up a slightly faster pace than before. He's starting to make more noise, his other hand cupping his balls, and Spencer knows it won't be long before Brendon comes. He can't decide whether he wants to watch Brendon's hand or his face. He realizes his own hand is pressed against his crotch; each of Brendon's escalating moans is making it harder not to do something about his raging hard-on.

  
Brendon's grip shifts from a closed fist to a loose, two-fingered circle and his hand becomes a blur on the head of his cock, and Spencer knows what it means. He recognizes the high "ah, ah, ah!" Brendon lets out, and sees the flush spreading down his throat seconds before Brendon starts coming with a tight cry of Spencer's name.

  
It's one of the hottest things Spencer's ever seen or heard, and he's starting to have a nice collection to choose from. Brendon's skin is shiny with sweat, his hair sticking to his cheeks and forehead and his thighs seem to be twitching a little. Spencer's cock is throbbing; he thinks he might risk permanent damage if he doesn't touch himself right the fuck _now_. He doesn't waste a second before shoving a hand under the elastic of his underwear.

  
He's barely managed to get in a single stroke when suddenly Brendon is there, tugging down his boxers and swatting Spencer's hands away from his cock. He says, "Wait, let me, I want to -" then leans forward and swallows Spencer's cock in one go.

  
Spencer is pretty lucky he doesn't choke on his tongue. He lasts maybe one minute before he's coming in Brendon's mouth, feeling like he'll never stop. Brendon swallows, his smile smug when he comes back up to peck Spencer on the lips.

  
"I take it this was what you wanted?"

  
Spencer thinks that this - this sated, smiling, unselfconscious Brendon - is exactly what he wanted. It's what he wants all the time, but he doesn't think that's what Brendon was asking.

  
"Yeah, Brendon. It's exactly what I wanted."

  
Brendon flops onto the pillows next to Spencer, hooking a leg over both of Spencer's. Spencer absently thinks about their clothes strewn all over the stairs. They should probably go pick them up before his parents and sisters get home, but he'd much rather stay in bed with Brendon.

  
He's floating in that blurry state between awareness and sleep when a thought strikes him. "So, what owes me the pleasure?"

  
Brendon doesn't move but Spencer hears his breathing change. Spencer reaches out to stroke his arm in a way that he hopes is reassuring.

  
Brendon starts talking without opening his eyes. "I don't know... It's just that we always do what I want, so... I wanted to do something for you for a change."

  
"It's what _I_ want, too. You know that, right?"

  
"Yeah, I know, I do, it's just that... It's like it's always about me, I'm making it about me all the time, and that's selfish, so I wanted to give something back. Do something more... normal."

  
Spencer feels the irritation sweeping over him. He wishes he hadn't asked; he thought they were past this by now. Still, he tries to keep his voice calm.

  
"For fuck's sake, Brendon!" Okay, so maybe the calm thing isn't such a success. He takes a deep breath and tries again, and his voice comes out considerably softer. "All I want is to be with you, okay? It wouldn't even matter what we did. But this is what you need, and I want to give you what you need. Plus, seriously, you're not even that kinky!"

  
Brendon looks unconvinced, so Spencer continues. Maybe this is the time he'll finally get through to Brendon. "For real, okay, stop freaking out about this. I'm sure plenty of people fantasize about being tied up, and, like, you don't even want to be spanked! On a scale from blindfold to giant babies, you're probably not even halfway up, so just... chill out about this!"

  
Spencer feels himself trembling a little. Good job not getting worked up! He'll be lucky if Brendon doesn't completely shut down after that outburst.

  
The bed is shaking. _Oh God,_ Spencer thinks fervently, _please don't let me have made Brendon cry..._ But when Spencer looks at Brendon, dreading what he'll see, Brendon is... Brendon is laughing?

  
"Oh my god, Spencer," he manages between his silent laughter convulsions, "what is up with you and the giant babies? Is there something you're trying to tell me?"

  
Spencer can't help but start giggling along with Brendon. He thinks the crisis is averted and they can do a little more making out before they have to get dressed again, but Brendon starts maneuvering them both into a spooning position, and tucks himself into the curve of Spencer's body. He reaches for Spencer's arm and draws it across his chest.

  
Spencer recognizes the position, so he tightens his arm around Brendon, closes his eyes, and waits for Brendon to start talking again.

  
"I know you don't do it just for me, okay, and I know it's not really _that_ weird. It's just that, I don't know... I guess I get worried because it's not particularly... those things I want you to do to me, they're not particularly, um, masculine, you know?"

  
Spencer doesn't know, actually. He has no idea what Brendon is talking about, but he doesn't think Brendon was really asking, so he lets him continue.

  
"I just worry that maybe you'd rather be with someone who's less... high maintenance, I guess. A regular guy, like, all manly and shit."

  
Spencer tries his best not to let his amusement show. He doesn't want to make this harder than it is for Brendon, but God, it's hard. "Is this what it's about? Because dude, I have two words for you: Ryan. Ross. We're in a band with that dude. I'm pretty sure the masculinity ship sailed a long time ago. Also, you could never in a million years be as high maintenance as he is."

  
Brendon's reply is soft, barely more than a whisper. "Maybe, but you're not fucking Ryan."

  
"Aw, come on, Bren, don't do this, okay? For one, you're totally more masculine than Ryan." That gets a chuckle from Brendon, which Spencer thinks is a good start. "And anyway," he continues, "this masculinity thing is bullshit, okay? Like, it takes huge balls, admitting this is what you want. I'm not... I'm not sure I could have, like, if it had been me."

  
"Really?" There's so much need in Brendon's voice that Spencer's heart constricts a little. It must have been so hard for Brendon to simply admit he was into guys, considering how he was raised. How much harder it must be to be into guys in this particular way.

  
"Yeah, Brendon, really."

  
"I just worry, that maybe you'll get tired of this and find someone less complicated. Someone more like Jon, for example."

  
Jon's straight, they all know that; Spencer knows that's not the point. He turns Brendon over so he can look him in the eyes and holds his wrists tightly. "Okay, listen to me carefully because I don't know how much clearer I can be. I love what we do. I _want_ to do it, it's fucking _hot_ , it's the best sex I've ever had, so will you fucking believe me when I say I'm not doing you any favors here?"

  
Brendon looks like he's going to interrupt, so Spencer pushes on. "And I want to do this with _you_. I wouldn't swap this with anything else with _anyone_. Am I getting through to you here?"

  
Brendon nods a little. His face is red but he doesn't look away. "But you'll tell me if there's something you want?"

  
Spencer can't believe Brendon even needs to ask. "Dude, I don't know who you've been fucking for the past couple of months..."

  
"Shut up, Spencer," Brendon interrupts. "You know what I mean. If there's something you want, like, something _else_ than this. You'll tell me, right?"

  
Spencer tries to infuse as much honesty and conviction as possible in his voice. If they never have to have this conversation again, it'll be too soon. "Yes, Brendon, okay, I promise. I will tell you. And you'll tell me, right?" Brendon nods.

  
"Come on then. We need to get dressed before someone comes knocking at the door asking why there's clothes all over the house. I don't think this is exactly what Mom had in mind when I said you were coming over."

  
***

  
They don't mention the conversation again, but, in a dozen little ways over the next few weeks, Spencer can tell it's sunk in. There's Brendon's easy smile before they kiss, and his abandon while they fuck; the way he looks at Spencer afterwards, not searching, only sated; the way he holds himself around Spencer when they're in public.

  
There's also the way he launches himself next to Spencer onto the hotel bed one night after they turn in, and says with a grin, "So, I think we should find out how many times you can make me come." Spencer has to take extra care not to choke while swallowing his drink.

  
"Um, yeah?" Spencer is trying to regain his breath.

  
"Yeah, totally!" Brendon seems oblivious to Spencer's predicament, chattering on happily. "I mean, I've always wanted to try it, you know, but like, when I’m alone I always stop after the first time because it gets kind of uncomfortable? But it's going to work this time, because you're going to do it instead. And, like, not stop."

  
Spencer sets his can down on the nightstand. "What do you mean, 'not stop'?"

  
Brendon looks at him like _duh_. "Dude, it's pretty straightforward. I come, you don't stop, I come again, you still don't stop, etcetera, etcetera, until it's really too much and then, um... you stop? I have no idea how long it will take. Aren't you glad I waited until we got a day off?"

  
Spencer's ecstatic about the day off at this point, they all are, but... "Um, Brendon, how will I know it's _really_ too much? Don't we need, like, a safeword for that kind of thing?"

  
The look on Brendon's face is the same he gets every time the subject has come up, which is several times by now. "Fuck, Spencer, enough with the safeword thing already! I've told you there's no way I'm saying 'spaghetti' or whatever during sex, okay, so it would just be counterproductive anyway."

  
"Okay, then, how _will_ I know? Do you want to set a number or what?"

  
Brendon considers it for a few seconds, his brown furrowing adorably. "Well, you're not tying me up for this, so how about I just pinch you? That way you can just ignore whatever I say."

  
Brendon is a bastard. He knows how much Spencer hates being pinched. Spencer thinks it would be better to hear 'spaghetti', even if - he has to admit Brendon has a point - it would probably kill the mood forever.

  
"So, even if you say 'no'? Or like, beg me to stop? What if you can't reach me?" Spencer asks, chewing on the callus on the side of his index finger. Clearly Spencer's speech did wonders for Brendon's confidence, but Spencer still has issues. He doesn't think it's unreasonable to talk about them, even if it does lead to Brendon teasing him about it afterwards.

  
Brendon climbs over Spencer until Spencer's on his back and Brendon is on all fours on top of him, considering him from above. "Okay then, how about this: you disregard anything I say unless I pinch you or say 'enough'? Or like, if I hit you in the face and shove you off the bed. Would that be sufficiently unambiguous for you?"

  
Spencer is grateful for Brendon keeping things light, even though his eyes are serious. He loves that they're at a stage where he and Brendon can talk about this. And he loves that he and Brendon talk about _this_.

  
"Yeah. Yeah, okay, Brendon, we can do that."

  
Brendon's smile is beaming. "Awesome! I'm just going to use the bathroom real quick and then we can start, alright?" Brendon's pretty transparent; Spencer knows the bathroom thing is a ploy to leave Spencer alone for a couple of minutes, until he can process this, get his head around it. Fuck, he really loves Brendon.

  
***

  
The first time, Spencer jerks Brendon off, nice and slow, not touching him anywhere else. He tells him to be still but that he can beg, and when Spencer asks if Brendon wants to be fucked, he gets a steady stream of, "Yes, yes please, Spencer, fuck me, fuck me oh god."

  
"Not until you've come." Spencer keeps his hand steady on Brendon's cock, deliberately not using any of the tricks he's gathered along the way that would be guaranteed to make Brendon crazy in a minute. "Come for me and then I'll give you something, okay? I'll fill you up, I'll fuck you until you come again."

  
It takes a little while for Brendon to get there, but he does, eventually. He tenses and shoots all over himself with a satisfied groan.

  
Spencer pets his spent cock for a minute, and then watches Brendon's face carefully as he resumes his strokes. Brendon hisses and squirms and Spencer waits for the pinch, but it never comes. Brendon just bites his lip, closes his eyes, and moans, "God, Spencer, please."

  
Brendon comes the second time while Spencer is fucking steady whines out of him, kneeling behind him and holding Brendon's torso to his. Brendon's entire body shakes as Spencer strokes him and thrusts up again and again, huffing into the side of Brendon's neck.

  
Spencer knows Brendon can come twice in one night, they've done it before, but it was never this close together. He can't imagine how it must feel, the way it must burn. He circles the head of Brendon's cock with his lubed fingers and sucks under Brendon's ear and Brendon hunches forward suddenly, like he's been punched, and Spencer feels his hand get wetter. Brendon's squeezing around his cock and it's unbearably good, and Spencer tips Brendon forward and just covers him with his body and ruts into him until he comes too.

  
Brendon might want to test the limits of his stamina but Spencer can't get it up again so soon, so for the third time he blows Brendon. Brendon's breathing is labored and he's covered in sweat by now, flushed from head to toe; Spencer's enjoying the view as he slurps messily around Brendon's soft cock. He gropes around for the lube, slicks up two fingers and pushes them into Brendon's ass, trying for his prostate and keeping them there, rubbing in circles. Brendon doesn't react apart from a loud noise, but Spencer can feel him hardening again under his tongue.

  
It takes longer, so long Spencer is starting to think it might not happen at all. Brendon is pulling his own hair with one hand and keeping a steady litany of, "Please, please, please." Spencer can't tell if they're pleas for him to stop or keep going, but Brendon's other hand is relaxed on Spencer's shoulder, so he continues. He keeps the stimulation steady and regular and his throat relaxed, and Brendon starts thrusting a little, alternating between trying to get Spencer's fingers away from his prostate and Spencer's tongue away from the head of his cock.

  
Spencer loses track of time, Brendon's smell and taste and sounds filling his head, and Brendon keeps rocking his hips and they barely even stutter before Spencer hears a loud wail and his mouth floods with Brendon's release. There's not a lot, so he swallows easily, licking around Brendon's cock to get it all.

  
Brendon's hand comes up to pet Spencer's head clumsily, and Spencer kisses Brendon's hip quickly before getting up. He wants to give Brendon a couple of minutes to regroup. Plus, he's been getting cramps, all folded up at the foot of the bed.

  
"Five-minute break; enjoy it," he says before going to the bathroom. He fills a plastic cup with water, rinses his mouth with half and drinks the rest. He's starting to get hard again, but he doesn't feel like doing anything about it. He leaves the bathroom and makes a quick detour to dig through his stuff before coming back to lie beside Brendon on the bed.

  
"Okay, for the next time, I'm thinking we let this do all the work," he says, setting the vibrator on Brendon's stomach. Brendon's eyes widen with what looks a little like panic, but he regains control of himself quickly and rolls onto his stomach, craning his neck to keep Spencer in his sight.

  
"Okay, Brendon, you remember how to stop this, right?" Spencer needs to make sure, because there's a glaze to Brendon's eyes that he doesn't quite understand and is not quite comfortable with yet, but Brendon nods frantically and spreads his legs a little.

  
Spencer coats the vibrator in lube; it's small, and Brendon is still relaxed from earlier, but he doesn't want to take any risk. He spreads Brendon open with one hand and licks a little around his hole, first. The tastes of lube and latex are not the best ever, but it's worth it for the way Brendon squeaks. Spencer pushes the vibrator in gently, as slow as he can, and sets the vibration on low. He barely moves it, keeping his hand on the base to make sure Brendon can't push it out and just kind of circling it inside Brendon. He slides his other hand under Brendon's hips and cups his cock, squeezing gently and regularly.

  
Brendon seems too exhausted to do much, but his face is turned towards Spencer, his features completely slack. Between that and the way he's drooling on the pillow, he looks like he could be sleeping, except for the way he's making, "uh, uh," sounds with each exhale that provide a counterpoint to the low buzzing of the vibrator. Spencer feels almost hypnotized.

  
Spencer's hand is starting to tingle, so he takes the vibrator out and runs it around Brendon's hole; he presses it behind his balls and watches how it makes Brendon scrambles onto his knees; he slides the toy up and down Brendon's shaft before bringing it to rest just under the head.

  
"Fuck!" Brendon's shout is startling in the stillness of the room, breaking Spencer out of his trance just in time for him to see Brendon's back bow like an angry cat's and to feel his cock giving a weak spurt.

  
Brendon lets Spencer manhandle him until he's resting on his side. He looks completely exhausted and he's covered in come. Spencer has never found him more beautiful, which he thinks should probably be slightly worrisome. He hesitates for a while, watching Brendon's face and listening to his steady breathing.

  
They never said what happened if Brendon fell asleep before he said, "enough," but the answer is quick to follow. Spencer accidentally brushes Brendon's cock while reaching to turn off the vibrator, and Brendon bats at his hand weakly, saying, "Oh _fuck no_ , Spencer, enough, okay, enough, get away from me."

  
Spencer smiles and kisses Brendon's nose before going to dump the vibrator in the shower. He brushes his teeth quickly, wets a cloth and comes back to the bedroom to wipe at Brendon's skin a little. They've completely ruined the cover; Spencer makes a note not to let any of the other guys into the room in the morning as he strips the soiled comforter from the bed. Brendon barely moves to help him, shifting his weight from side to side but otherwise immobile.

  
Spencer gets an extra blanket from the closet and drapes it over both of them, reaching for the light on the nightstand. He settles into his pillow, listening to Brendon's breathing, feeling the heat of it in the bed. It occurs to him that he hasn't dealt with his erection, but he doesn't want to disturb Brendon now, and he's too comfortable to get up and go take care of it in the bathroom. He's pretty sure it won't be wasted; Brendon will take care of it in the morning.

  
He feels the bed move a little, Brendon groping around for something in the darkness. "What are you doing?" he whispers.

  
"Where's your hand?" Brendon is slurring a little. Even with the sourness of Brendon's breath, it's the most adorable thing ever.

  
"Here," he says, reaching out a hand until it bumps into Brendon's searching one. Brendon doesn’t take it, just rests his own hand on top of Spencer's. "Thanks," he sighs.

  
Spencer thinks that he should have made Brendon brush his teeth before he passed out; he'll regret it when Brendon tries to kiss him first thing in the morning. Then he considers where he is and what he just did and who he is with.

  
"Thank _you_ ," he says.

  
Brendon snores.

  


 


	2. PWP Outtake

When they're playing like this, Spencer is always the one doing the fucking. Spencer’s tried it from the other side, once or twice, but it’s not an experience he’s eager to reproduce, and Brendon’s never expressed any desire to exchange roles. It just seems more natural that way.

  
Spencer’s been thinking about it though. He sees the effect being fucked has on Brendon; his reactions are unlike Spencer’s ever seen before. So he’s been curious for a while, but he doesn’t think Brendon would ask for it. So he has something planned for tonight, something that he’s confident will work for both of them.

  
He gets Brendon on his back and places his hands above his head. "Don't move," he says, then climbs off the bed to get the necessary supplies.

  
When he comes back, Brendon is sweating a little, the telltale lip-biting and furrowed brow indicating he's already into it. He hasn't moved. His cock is starting to rise from his thigh.

  
Spencer straddles his legs and uncaps the lube. "Open your eyes," he directs, keeping his voice low and gentle. He never wants to be like the guys barking orders he's seen in some videos; they had made his skin crawl.

  
He locks his eyes with Brendon's and reaches between his legs, pressing a finger into himself slowly. Brendon’s eyes widen in a way that would be comical if Spencer weren’t so worked up already.

  
Spencer's not used to this and the first intrusion feels strange, but he keeps going, reminding himself that later, it's going to be Brendon inside him. The thought makes him lube up a second finger and start moving them inside himself. The angle is awkward; he can't get the stimulation he needs.

  
Brendon is staring at him and Spencer feels himself flushing, feeling exposed above him like this. Then he remembers Brendon is lying still for him, arms above his head like they've been tied there - except they haven't, not by anything more than Spencer's words. They’re both exposed, both open for each other in their own way.

  
He takes his fingers out and rolls the condom on Brendon's cock, now fully hard, before shuffling forward on his knees.

  
"I'm going to take you inside me now." Brendon makes a noise, something between an exclamation and a plea.

  
Spencer lowers himself down, slowly, feeling his body open to accommodate the shape of Brendon's cock. The stretch hurts, but Spencer keeps going, thighs burning slightly with the strange position he's in, not quite kneeling, not quite sitting.

  
Finally, he's resting on Brendon, ass flush against his thighs. He realizes his eyes are closed; opening them, he takes in the sight before him.

  
Brendon is breathing hard, chest heaving, hands clenching and unclenching. Beads of sweat are running along his hairline, and a pink flush has already spread across his cheekbones.

  
"Don't move, okay?" he tells Brendon, who nods a little, swallowing hard. Spencer can feel Brendon's thighs flexing under him, Brendon trying to counteract his body's natural reaction to the situation.

  
When he’d thought about this, Spencer had planned on making Brendon keep still while he rode him until they both came. But now he’s there, with Brendon under him, he decides he wants to draw things out a little and enjoy the sight.

  
Spencer takes himself in hand and starts jerking himself off. Brendon's eyes widen when he understands what's happening.

  
"That's right, Bren. This is what we're doing." Spencer rocks a little, a back and forth movement that's making him really feel Brendon inside.

  
"I'm going to keep you inside me while I jerk off, and then I'm going to make myself come, and you're going to stay still, you're not going to move until I tell you."

  
Brendon whimpers. His whole face is flushed now. Spencer knows he's twitching inside, knows he's tightening around Brendon with each stroke of his hand on his cock. If Spencer's body reacts to being fucked in the same way Brendon's does, Spencer knows just this must be torture for Brendon.

  
"And then," he continues, "when I've come, I'll finger you until you come too. But I won't touch you anywhere else."

  
Brendon cries out at that, and his stomach starts twitching.

  
"Don't come yet, Brendon, don't come now. I want to watch you, later, I want to -"

  
Spencer can't quite finish his sentence because his orgasm blindsides him, coming out of nowhere. He hunches and shakes and shoots over Brendon's stomach, barely hearing Brendon's litany of, "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer."

  
Spencer thinks his honor is safe because it doesn't seem like Brendon's in any state to comment about his staying power. Brendon's eyes have rolled into his head and he's thrashing his head on the pillow, breathing gone erratic.

  
Gently, Spencer climbs off Brendon, takes the condom off and slides down the bed. He pours more lube over his fingers and touches Brendon's thigh. "Spread your legs." Brendon complies with a new whimper.

  
"You're doing so good, Brendon. You're going to come now while I'm fucking you with my fingers." Brendon nods frantically, or at least so Spencer guesses according to the noise of his hair rubbing over the pillow.

  
He circles Brendon's opening with one finger before pushing inside in one go. He crooks it, immediately searching for that spot. Brendon gives an inarticulate cry. His thighs twitch, but his legs don't move.

  
Spencer goes back with two fingers, pushing and rubbing at the same spot for a while before starting a rapid in-out motion, aiming for it on each stroke.

  
Brendon starts talking, which Spencer knows is a sign of how far out of his own head he is. "Spencer, Spencer, god, I need... I need to come, Spencer, please, make me come, please, please." The words go directly to Spencer's gut, and he increases the pressure inside Brendon.

  
"Come on, Brendon," he encourages. "Come on, you can do it, you can come now. Come on, Brendon, you can come, come for me, come now."

  
The sound that comes out of Brendon's mouth is something between a groan and a wail, and Spencer brings his other hand to rub behind Brendon's drawn-up balls. Brendon's left leg starts twitching uncontrollably. "I want to, but I can't, Spencer, I need your hand, please, I can't come like this, I want to, god, I need to come, Spence, please," he begs, voice gone hoarse with desperation.

  
Spencer wonders if he should put a stop to this for the sake of Brendon's voice, wonders if he's pushing too far this time, or if he's asking something impossible of Brendon. He'd seen Brendon do it, once, come without his cock being touched - but it had been after a week apart, during which he'd asked Brendon not to touch himself. Brendon had come while Spencer had fucked him, Spencer's hands on Brendon's hips, Brendon's hands braced against the back of the couch.

  
"Okay, Brendon, don't worry, just a little more and then I'll touch you, okay, I'll get my hand or my mouth on your cock and make you come like that, I wouldn't let you -"

  
But it seems Spencer was right the first time, because it’s like every muscle in Brendon’s body seizes suddenly, and he lets out a series of high, alarmed noises, and his cock starts twitching and he comes. Spencer keeps his fingers pressed firmly against Brendon's prostate and cups his balls with his other hand, and watches as Brendon empties himself on his stomach and chest.

  
Spencer swallows, filled with awe once again, awe that Brendon would let him see such intimate things. He rushes to lie at Brendon's side, stroking his hair, kissing his lips. Brendon turns his head a little, opening his mouth to suck in huge breaths, but he soon returns to Spencer's kisses.

  
"You good?" Spencer can't help but ask.

  
"Yeah, Spence, 'm great," Brendon mumbles into Spencer's neck before snuggling into his chest.

  
“Let’s do that again sometime,” he slurs, tickling the hair on Spencer’s chest.

  
“Whatever you want.” Spencer goes to draw the comforter over them but Brendon is already snoring slightly. Spencer closes his eyes.


End file.
